


506. Drag it out of me

by SevlinRipley



Category: It - All Media Types, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bottom Mike Wheeler, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Top Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 15:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16370402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevlinRipley/pseuds/SevlinRipley
Summary: For the anonymous request I received inmy inboxon tumblr:for the kink prompts: multiple orgasms/overstimulation for wheelzier?





	506. Drag it out of me

"Rich - Richie w-" Mike had tried to warn him, had even grabbed at the wrist attached to the hand on his cock. But Richie was rocking into him so hard that the words were only bubbling up out from Mike's chest, sinking in and out, and the poignant pressure against his prostate so completely distracting and _nice_ that Mike could only press his head back into the pillow and close his eyes, cutting himself off with a groan as he felt his cock start to harden even further before strings of warm cum were meeting the soft dew pooled within the divots of his belly. Little hills caused by his knees being pressed up near his head, one of Richie's mitt-sized hands fanning out across the underneath of Mike's milky thigh to hold him there.

"Jesus!" Mike heard Richie gasp out, hand suddenly faster, firmer along Mike's cock, helping pump him through his orgasm, even though he'd been taken by surprise. At least there was that, but Mike was already flushing a deeper scarlet and trying to turn the small amount of embarrassment into something else.

Anger. "I -" Mike heaved in a short breath, clenching tight around Richie, still, "I tried to fucking tell you to wait." It was Richie's fault he came already, for not paying attention. This was only their third time together and Mike fucking got that everyone was different, so how, technically, could Richie be expected to know what it looks like when Mike's about to cum, but Jesus Christ.

He let his body go limp against the bedding, damp from their body heat co-mingling, waiting for Richie to pull out. Realizing he'd slowed his thrusts to a stop as the last of Mike's cum dribbled out from the top of his cock. Only, as his breathing began to even out, his eyes slipping closed more peacefully in the afterglow, rather than clenching tight from the overwhelming pleasure, he realized Richie wasn't moving. He swallowed thickly, gut-reaction hot-headedness filtering away.

"Sorry. You... uh. You want my hand or. I could blow you?" His body had already mostly entered that heavenly layer of zen where he felt like he could fall into the best sleep of his life. But obviously he wanted Richie to get off, too, and _obviously_ he wasn't _actually_ mad Richie made him cum. It was just... he would have liked if - if Richie'd been able to cum while fucking him.

The red splotches along his chest were slowly calming, the fever of them retreating back, deeper into his skin, and he took another breath in as he forced his eyes open, hoping not to see disappointment in Richie's eyes.

"Mike. Fuck, dude that was so...."

Quick. He _knew_ , okay? Mike was just about to groan and roll his eyes, throw his leg over himself and roll away to go sulk in the shower and let Richie finish himself off. 

"Hot. Oh my god."

"What? But... aren't you... You're not even close, _are_ you?"

 

He had not expected Richie, of all people, to have a lot of stamina, if he were honest. Richie was a spontaneous person who quickly flitted from one thought to the next, and Mike was certain that would translate to the bedroom. Ten minutes tops, and moving onto play a video game, or hauling Mike off to meet their friends and climb trees and build dens within the wild of the woods like they were all still kids. But that hadn't been the way things were.

The first time Mike had tried using his mouth to make Richie cum, his jaw had started to ache from how long he was going at it. And if Richie hadn't been so damn vocal about how amazing it felt, Mike would've thought he was bad at it.

Well, Richie's praise, right along with the fact that every other person Mike had ever used his mouth on had seemed alarmed by how quickly _they_ had cum. So he _knew_ he wasn't bad.

Richie'd been paying more attention, then, though. Had at some point realized Mike was losing momentum, and pulled him back, and off by his hair.

'Hey,' he'd said, the softness and gratitude in his voice making Mike's skin hum and blush - amazed that Richie appreciated how Mike had been trying, through the pain of it, to prove to himself _and_ to Richie, that he knew what he was doing. 'Let me jerk off into your mouth?' Mike had swallowed and nodded, ready to hold his mouth open and endure the pain of such effort - even if it was going to be marginally less than actively sucking at Richie's cock, and trying to fit the length of it down his throat - when Richie had instead, pushed his head down to rest along a thigh, petting at Mike's hair. Richie took himself in hand, long and hard, and slick with Mike's saliva. 'Tell you when I'm close, okay?' Richie'd added.

And Mike hadn't seen the soft smile that pushed up Richie's cheeks and therefore glasses, when Mike's eyes slipped closed and he'd relaxed into Richie's leg, hair still being gently smoothed down the side of his head.

It'd taken time, but Mike suspected Richie aimed to bring himself to orgasm faster than he would if he were jerking off alone, even so. Mike had wanted to ask if he just wasn't doing something right, if there were certain boxes he needed to tick for Richie that only Richie knew for himself.

But later when they woke up, Richie's face buried into his neck, the curve of his nose along Mike's Adam's apple, Richie had murmured to him yet again how fucking fantastic he was with his mouth. 'Wish every fuckin' blow job I'd had was that good...! Jesus, Mike. We could make real money off of you.'

...Somehow it'd been sweet.

 

Richie smirked at Mike then, lips curled up with an arch to his brow that had initially been something that irked Mike, when he'd first met him.

 

Richie came off so smug and knowing, cracking jokes like he knew exactly what buttons to push and when before Mike had even given Richie the time of day, enough to be analyzed, himself.

He guessed it was the irritation Richie had caused him, and the way his friends all slowly grew to accept Richie as one of their own, that made Mike do the double take that ended in him shoving Richie against the wall outside the mall's theater one night, when everyone else had started peeling off toward home.

Had him kissing Richie fiercely, fucked up over how intensely Richie made him _feel_ _**everything**_ and desperate to... somehow punish Richie for it. Punish himself, more like. Show Richie what he'd done to Mike, and in a way Mike could never take back.

Mike hadn't really been thinking clearly that night. Upset and flustered and maybe a little heartbroken to the point where he couldn't stand the idea of just being Richie's friend anymore, so he'd aimed to ruin it. Prove to himself he'd ruin it. So that he could just move on with his life, already.

Only - Richie'd grabbed him by his hoodie and pulled him in closer, glasses smashed between their faces, and breathing hard, eyes closed like he might open them and Mike would fade away like any other fantasy. Like dreams he'd had at night and woken from to an empty reality.

So... Mike had been wrong. And then, he'd had an even bigger problem on his hands. He and Richie were kind of in love, and boy if _that_ wasn't gonna get him endless teasing from their friends. Not to mention the pressure to keep this gift of reciprocation.

Shit.

 

"No, babe, I'm not close," Richie told him before giving a test thrust out and back into Mike's ass.

Mike flinched, body clenching down around Richie as if to push him out, sensitive and prostate aching. And that was the other infuriating thing....

Three times, only, and Richie'd already figured out exactly where to aim; Mike kind of hated that maybe this was going to be the name of the game for the rest of their relationship. Richie making Mike cum too soon, so that they never really got to be fully _together_.

"C'mon, Mike," Richie said, voice going gravelly as he leaned forward, stretching Mike's leg back even closer to his chest, before kissing up his neck, languid, and wet, "Let me keep fucking you.... See if I can give you another one just as good, if not better."

Something bloomed within Mike's chest, hearing those words as Richie yet again, slowly pulled away, and pushed back in, keeping his pace steady and excruciating, making Mike tense up with the anticipation. Knowing that as soon as the head of Richie's cock slid back across his prostate, he was going to feel his nerves light up, a zing of pain pulling him into individual threads.

His cock even twitched, barely having had a moment for the blood to start dissipating, getting absorbed back into its normal flow and routine along the pathways inside his body.

Mike bit into his lip, holding onto a groan. Torn only between the idea of asking Richie to take it just as slow as he had been, make Mike feel every second of it in wide open detail, or have Richie screw him into the mattress again, try to get it over with. Not entirely convinced he actually _could_ cum again. But now that the idea had been implanted in his mind that maybe he didn't have to let go of his desire to make Richie fill him up... Having Richie pull out altogether wasn't even a question.

"What if..." Mike started slowly, eyes coming to meet Richie's once Richie looked up at the sound of Mike's voice, "What if you just fuck me till you cum?" He lifted a hand from his chest, to run through the wild curls at the side of Richie's head, tucking them between his fingers, and holding Richie inches from his face, so they could study each other. Mike wasn't saying no to anything, just saying that he didn't want Richie to be disappointed if another orgasm wasn't really feasible.

Eyes looking into Mike's flicking back and forth as he read him, Richie slowly let his smile back onto his face. "What if you just spend the next little while here thinking of the dirtiest, kinkiest shit your little Dungeon Master brain can muster and let _me_ worry about who cums?"

His eyes flashed dark, and hot wanting to pull Richie in for a kiss so deep they both forgot how to breathe, impress upon Richie how absolutely crazy (grateful) it made him that Richie never seemed to question the dynamic between them. The vulnerabilities Mike allowed himself when with Richie alone, as opposed to with everyone else. But something even more important than that potential kiss struck up at him, and he pulled Richie, forehead to forehead, moving his legs out of Richie's grasp and planting his feet on the bed, prepared to fuck himself on Richie's cock as his resounding approval. "Hey," Mike said, not nodding but minutely, or directly responding, "Richie... I love you."

Richie's chest caught at that, clenching around the words he hadn't been expecting. It felt like they'd sucked up all his oxygen, but still he managed, face softening, even as his eyebrows were pulled up, taut, in surprise, "Love you, to-o - oh." Richie swallowed harshly, feeling Mike angle his hips away, and then before Richie could really think, Mike was bringing his ass back down into the tops of Richie's thighs, making him gasp out, "Mikey. Fuck!"

Worrying after the strain and curl of Mike's spine, Richie, although appreciative and fully turned on by the idea of Mike fucking himself through all the electric shocks Richie's cock was surely causing him, post-orgasm, grabbed Mike firmly around the underneath of his thigh again, and Mike's hip with his other hand, holding him still to show he was ready to fuck into him at the rough, pointed pace Mike had clearly been trying to set. "Fuck, baby boy... Can't tell if you were listening to me just then, or not. Is this something you've wanted? Huh? You wanna get milked dry, sweetheart? Or are you just into me making you _ache_?"

Mike felt his chest puff up with a deep inhale, spurred by unadulterated want. Maybe there were things similar that he'd considered before. Maybe some things had been in the back of his mind, wrapped up and tucked away, never explored that were now undeniable. Mike wanted to feel the prick of pain run all the way up his spine, flashing in his brain with every wild thrust inward, every strenuous pull outward. "I," Mike started, mouth dropping open, and almost immediately giving way to a grunt as Richie's thighs strained tight working himself into Mike, as he let his mouth fall to Mike's chest, mouthing at it, soft drags of teeth over pale, freckled skin. " _Uh_ \- I. Fuck. I -" Mike was nervous to answer. Frustrated that he wasn't sure just how long he'd been hiding the fact that he wanted this, even from himself.

"Mike, hey," Richie said, kissing up to the corner of his mouth, voice sure and low, "Tell me later if you want, okay? Just think, remember? Breathe, and think, and let me take care of you."

Nodding fervently, Mike let his hands fall to his sides, gripping into the bedding as he allowed Richie to guide his hips up at a better angle. Fucking into him relentlessly and sending shocks of pleasure up his cock.

He let out a half-broken cry when Richie's hand came to his cock again. A protest on his lips, 'Please don't make me cum without you again.' But then Richie was saying, hushed, gruff voice sending shivers down Mike's spine, "Jesus Christ Mike, so fuckin' hot when you give yourself to me like this. Gonna fuckin' cum soon, baby." At that, Mike whined, love sparking through him and rewarding him by turning the sharpness of the pain more dull and rolling, melting to wax in his belly. "Yeah, I know sweetheart. Want my cum so bad? I could tell; so fuckin' desperate to keep me inside you that you don't even care that you're shaking like a leaf under me, right?"

And he was. Everything - he felt everything so intensely up through his core, and outward that his arms and legs where visibly jittery, stomach muscles clenching at every drag of Richie's unrepentant cock.

"Still so hard, too... God you're fucking gorgeous. I can't fucking wait to see how fast I can make you cum next time. See how long you can stand me fucking you after, _then_."

Mike sucked in a gasp of a breath at that head angling back as Richie's words anchored the pleasure in, Richie's movements more erratic now, and hand on Mike's cock just as messy. "Richie," Mike gasped out, an almost-sob.

"Hey, Mikey. Spread your pretty cheeks for me, huh? I want you to really feel the stretch when I cum in you. Want you to feel it fuckin' dripping out of you when I'm done, okay?"

Giving up on speaking, then, Mike simply did as he was told, hands shakily sliding down the bed, passed his hips and stretched-up legs, to his ass cheeks, getting a hold of them, dipping his fingertips tight into the soft tissue there, and pulling outward till his skin felt tight and Richie's cock felt like it was reaching even _deeper_.

This kicked another sob from Mike's chest, and one hand twitched, itching to come up to his mouth so that he could bite back the sounds Richie was triumphantly pulling from him. Wrecking him in the evident tears gathering among his eyelashes, cock dripping yet more precum onto Richie's lithe fingers, and onto his stomach where his first load was drying. "Such a good fuckin' boy for me, Mike. Fuck, look at you. Bet you'd let me wring a third outta you, woudln't you? Want me to get a vibrator on you after this? See if you cum dry?" Mike felt his oncoming orgasm, felt it racketing up, cock going tight in Richie's hand. Not that Richie'd notice, yet again, hand so slick, moving too fast, mouth too busy. "Fuck it, I wanna blow you, actually. Nice and slow. I wanna _feel_ you cum dry."

That was it. Mike was cumming onto his stomach once more, much less volition this time, much more aware than he expected to be, of the rough, shallow, needling thrusts of Richie's hips against his, while he, came, directly after, slick heat filling Mike up as a pleasant wave broke it's way up Mike's body, melting his muscles down into the bed, dropping all tension form every tendon and bone, making a soft landing for Richie as he fell into Mike's chest, heated cheeks pressing to Mike's even warmer skin. "Damn, baby," Richie huffed, trying to catch his breath as he carefully allowed Mike to have movement of his own legs again. "This is gonna be fun...!"

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Orla Gartland's "I Go Crazy"


End file.
